


Last Dance

by gwisin



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 04:34:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10429182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwisin/pseuds/gwisin
Summary: It’s the night before Seunghyun’s enlistment and Jiyong wants to remember it as something more.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this last summer based off of Seunghyun's IG post of Amy Winehouse's "Love is a Losing Game" but I never managed to finish it and completely forgot about it since. Timeskip to last month and I find this in my documents, shocked to find out I sorta-kinda predicted the title of bigbang's song before its release. So that gave me motivation to write the rest and now here we are.

His fingers trace down Jiyong’s back and then up again, feeling his weighing body rise against his own with each breath. His attention is focused on Jiyong more than the TV.

It's another romance movie, one of Jiyong’s favorites, that they've seen over a hundred times and Seunghyun's sure he could recite each word if he really wanted to.

The two friends are secretly in love, neither of them knowing how they truly feel about each other. There’s complications throughout but by the end, the guy builds enough confidence to confess to the girl and they finally get together. The end.

It's sappy and cliche and Seunghyun barely liked it the first time around. The plot is overused and predictable and something about their acting irked him. But Jiyong loves it. How, he doesn’t really know. His love for aesthetically yet shitty semi-old romantic movies is out of Seunghyun’s range of understanding but he still sits down and watches every minute through with him.

Jiyong slightly lifts his head from Seunghyun’s chest, points at the screen, and starts complaining as if the characters can hear him. “I hate this part the most, he clearly loves her, why can't she see that?”

He lays his head back down on his chest, still angrily mumbling about how oblivious and blind the girl is, as if this is truly the first time he's seen this movie and has no clue of the couple’s happy fate in the end.

With each complaint identical to the last time they watched, he still finds himself smiling at his frustration and his _‘can you believe this, Seunghyun!’_ at each dramatic but not very shocking plot twist.

He shifts his head to the side to see what part is playing and it's barely halfway done. He doesn't mind, his attention moving back to Jiyong on top of him. There's a prolonged silence, the only noise reaching Seunghyun’s ears is the characters talking in the background and Jiyong’s quiet breathing.

Seunghyun traces small figures against Jiyong’s back with his index finger, thinking of Jiyong and nothing else in particular for a while, his thoughts surprisingly at ease.

Then there’s a question after some time.

“Do you have any wine left?” Seunghyun asks.

He doesn't expect him to actually have any. It's Jiyong’s place, not his, so his wine supply is much smaller and he usually runs out of it pretty quickly, courtesy of Seunghyun.

Jiyong lays there for a second, wondering if he actually does, before lifting his weight off Seunghyun. “Oh yeah I forgot, I just bought a few the other day, I’ll go get some.”

He watches him leave the room without another word as he sits up on the couch, stretching his stiff muscles from being used as a full body cushion for so long. The movie is still playing, Jiyong temporarily abandoning it for the wine.

It only takes a minute before he comes back, two glasses in hand and wine in the other. Seunghyun’s eyes follow as Jiyong places them down on the table, squinting at the single bottle of wine.

“Only one?”

“Yes, only one,” replies Jiyong.

“You ruin all the fun,” he teases, sulking on the couch like a child.

“I'll get more if we need it.”

He pours, from his own judgement, the appropriate amount of wine in each glass and ignores any kind of annoyed faces Seunghyun is pulling from his spot on the couch. Completely getting rid of the wine is out of the question, he knows that. Though having a drink in moderation is good for the both of them, not enough to get them drunk but just enough to feel the warmth rising to their reddening cheeks.

He settles down next to him, snuggling close, his body warm.

Weeks before, he thought about Seunghyun and his habits, the ones that get worse when he’s in his own space, where he’s at his most comfortable yet vulnerable. The last second he had changed their plans on him and told him they’d spent their last night at Jiyong’s instead.

Here, the events slowly unfolded the way Jiyong hoped for. Seunghyun’s mind and body are sober, free of gnawing thoughts and heavy alcohol. He's sober but distracted, and in a good way. It's their last night together, before everything changes in the morning. A repeat of the last few months forced into a single night is the last thing he wanted.

He brings up the glass to his lips and takes a small drink, letting the taste settle on his tongue. The movie had continued to play without him and he picks up where the girl is crying in her bedroom, heartbroken and miserable. Jiyong cringes and something about it makes him look away, a part of him starting to regret putting it on.

He takes another sip, more than the last, and thinks about Seunghyun’s bags lying somewhere on the floor in his house, maybe in the living room or by his bed. He wonders what he’s going to bring with him, what he needs and what he doesn’t need, the rest left behind.

Other thoughts intrude into his mind and the taste of stained wine on his lips starts to nauseate him.

He wonders how it’ll feel tomorrow, waking up to an empty bed, void of Seunghyun’s lazy but strong arms pulling him in closer for warmth. There’ll be silence and nothing after, no raspy and deep voice saying _‘good morning’_ or _‘please, just a few more minutes’._

It'll feel like reality and Seunghyun won't be a part of it.

It’s too much and his stomach churns. He feels sick. He needs something to distract himself this time.

“We should dance.”

His voice is unsteady and he hopes Seunghyun doesn't catch it.

There's still a mouthful of wine that he can't swallow all at once so he lets out a confused and muffled _‘hm?’_ at Jiyong’s sudden change of plans.

“I don't feel like watching anymore,” he says, setting down the wine and getting up. “I wanna dance.”

Seunghyun looks at Jiyong, down at his empty glass, and then the wine bottle on the table.

“Well we're gonna need a lot more wine for that,” he jokes.

“We have enough,” Jiyong repeats, grinning at Seunghyun's sly remark to get more wine. “I'll get more wine later.”

Seunghyun surprisingly stays put and sets his own glass down, crossing his legs up on the couch and watching whatever part the movie is on while Jiyong picks the music. The speakers blast a variety of songs, most of which he recognizes and hums along to.

Jiyong had been hunched over on his laptop for god knows how long, looking through who knows how many of his playlists, and Seunghyun starts to get impatient, the movie becoming unpleasantly more interesting by the second. He pours a bit of wine into his glass and takes a quick swing, his alcohol intake tonight barely enough to make him the least bit drunk, but it's just enough to get him on his feet.

A foreign pop song that he vaguely heard once before begins to play and his body starts to have a mind of its own. He moves his arms and legs to the beat, or something close to that, and attempts singing along to unfamiliar words that roll awkwardly off his tongue.

Seunghyun’s sudden outburst startles Jiyong and he doesn't know whether it's his ridiculous dance moves or his exaggerated screaming of the lyrics that got to him first, but he doesn't care. He forgets every uneasy thought from before. About all the things they have to face tomorrow but neither of them wanting to, the time he's spending with Seunghyun right now the only thing that matters.

He falls and curls up on the floor, hoping that holding his stomach tight would prevent him from laughing even more. Tears sting his eyes and he’s gasping for breath, his laugh the only thing that could replace the alcohol for the incentive Seunghyun needed to get up and dance.

After what seems like forever, it comes to an end and Jiyong breathes in relief, his stomach finally able to relax. The next song plays and Jiyong calms down enough to hear the first few beats resonating in the room, then his own voice. _Don’t Go Home._

Seunghyun looks down and they both know without saying a word, because years of being together does that to people. But in this case it’s more than half their lifetime and Jiyong smiles wide, his cheeks sore from laughing, and he’s brought up to his feet.

They were never the ones to remember choreography but bits and pieces of it is still fresh in their memory, and it’s all the same for the most part. Their dramatic and cheesy acting of the performance, their charming dance moves that would draw out screams from their fans. Except it’s only between them, the audience each other. The gestures and stares and small touches exchanged to one another, no one else, and it feels miles different, it feels genuine and real.

Certain parts are more blurred than others, filling the blanks in with improvised dancing or acting and playful kisses. Jiyong stretches out his hand, giving Seunghyun an imaginary rose and he takes it, pretending to blush.

They use the couch instead of chairs for the next scene, rapping their lyrics side by side, and Seunghyun does what he had always wished he could do on stage. He cups Jiyong’s cheeks with his hands, pulling him into a quick, sloppy kiss, and smirks at the thought of how their fans would have reacted. Maybe speechless at first and then screaming following after, out of disgust or shock or maybe both. Or maybe out of some miracle, support. He doubts it.

Jiyong smiles into the kiss and pulls him down, his thoughts mirroring Seunghyun's. He wonders what the headlines of every newspaper and online article would read, what the comments would say and what other celebrities would think. It made his heart race, just the thought of doing something so stupid and scandalous. And in some alternate universe, they would've done it in a heartbeat.

They finish off the rest of the song with their new romantic plot twist, the choreography turned into a makeout session on the couch.

The mood shifts entirely as the playlist transitions to _High High_. Jiyong can't remember when he put this many of their songs on this playlist, but it doesn't matter. Seunghyun is already off of him and on his feet, scanning the room looking for something. He runs across the room, almost busting his ass on the floor to grab a pair of sunglasses Jiyong left on the table from a few days before.

He hasn't even had that much wine, Jiyong thinks, sitting up and smiling at the idiot coming his way again.

The music is apparently not loud enough for Seunghyun, so he takes it upon himself to crank up the speakers with no consideration of his neighbors around them. Jiyong stands up on the couch, rapping along to his own parts and Seunghyun to his own. Their voices melt together, his heart feeling light at the passion and energy still there, even in the late hours of the night.

Their performance is cut short once he sees his cat suddenly coming into the room and Seunghyun trying his best to take him into his arms.

“Ai, come here!”

“No, don't!” Jiyong warns. “He’ll scratch you!”

Seunghyun doesn't listen, lifting him into a hug and Ai lets him.

Ai, in Jiyong’s world, is his precious and innocent baby, much to everyone’s annoyance who has gotten anywhere within five feet of his cat. Neither his close friends, members, or even family have been able to warm up to _satan’s cat_ as his mother always calls him.

Anytime some unfortunate soul came over and saw his cute little cat, their first instinct was to pet him and all they’d get after leaving is a good cup of coffee or tea and a good number of bloody scars to go along with it.

Seunghyun is also on that potential list of victims but much like Jiyong, Ai had fallen in love with him and managed to remain unscathed each time he came over. Though that still didn't dissipate his worry from how unpredictable his cat is, and definitely how unpredictable his boyfriend is when he has random urges to snatch him into his arms.

“Look how good he looks,” Seunghyun says proudly, holding up the sunglasses over Ai’s face. “He’ll find a cute boyfriend in no time.”

Jiyong looks at him incredulously, feeling his laugh building up in the pit of his sore and aching stomach once Seunghyun puts his sunglasses back on and takes Ai’s paw, making pretend that he’s rapping along too.

His giggling turns into a full blown laughing fit again, his face scrunched up into a mix of pain and joy and he decides this is too funny not to record. The chorus blasts against the thick walls of his apartment, his whole body shaking from laughter, barely managing to keep his phone still to record Seunghyun moving Ai’s paw to their iconic dance move.

After a few minutes of Seunghyun’s show, the song comes to an end with a more than annoyed expression on Ai’s face. Cords to the next song begin and he doesn't recognize it. The melody slow and unfitting for their previous outburst that it ruins the mood entirely.

And Seunghyun is out of breath as is.

He goes back to shut it off and it leaves the room back its original state, quiet, save but the small background noises of the movie.

“I'm getting old,” says Seunghyun.

Jiyong scoffs at him, the phrase a mantra, an excuse to him every time his body moves more than usual and he gets tired.

“I'm only a year behind.”

“Speak for yourself. You only danced to one song and laughed at me for the other two,” defends Seunghyun, sitting back down on the couch with Ai in his arms and looking at him for some sort of backup. “Right, Ai?”

He earns a low purr but it's narrowed eyes cutting into Seunghyun said otherwise. There's a limit to how much his cat could tolerate being man handled and he’d rather not reach that point.

“Put him down before he claws you to death,” Jiyong reminds him again. “And it’s not my fault you decided to out-shine me and make me laugh.”

Seunghyun lets Ai free to wander on the floor again and he looks back at Jiyong.

“Well it’s not my fault either for being so amazing at dancing.”

Jiyong rolls his eyes and lets out a small laugh, making his way back to the couch to curl up next to Seunghyun. “I guess you’re the dancing king now.”

“I am,” he agrees, self-assured, and kisses his cheek.

They fall into silence and something wells up in the pit of Jiyong’s stomach again. It’s not bad but it’s not good either. The movie is still playing even though he feels like it should’ve ended already and he wants to turn it off, to do both of them the favor, but he doesn’t. He lifts his pinky and holds it up in front of Seunghyun.

“After this is all over, promise me we’ll come out with another album. Just the two of us.”

His finger feels cold, wanting warmth.

_Needing warmth._

He needs those nights back again. Those long nights they spent together, just the two of them in the studio until morning came and either Teddy or Kush or someone walked in wondering why they came in for work so early. And they'd just laugh.

He needs to hear the lyrics and melodies they’d create together, their hearts spilled into songs for no one but each other. To feel Seunghyun next him, tapping out the rhythm on the table and mumbling lyrics that would make everyone wonder who the lucky girl was that made him so happy.

He needed nothing to change. Like it was just yesterday, still in their early twenties, releasing their first album together and standing side by side on more stages than he can remember.

The inseparable duo who fit perfectly and beautifully together.

_Kwon Jiyong and Choi Seunghyun._

“Promise.”

Seunghyun’s pinky wraps around his, warmth flowing through each memory, and he pulls him into a kiss. It’s sweet and gentle and when Jiyong opens his eyes, Seunghyun gives him a cheesy smile. It’s the one he loves more than anything. The same one that makes him look cute but steadies Jiyong’s heart, telling him _‘I’m right here, everything’ll be okay.’_

And he believes him.

Seunghyun glances at the TV, struggling to hold back an annoyed groan. The movie is still playing. Granted, it seems to be nearing the end, but he can't recall the last time it felt this long. “I think it’s my turn to say I don’t feel like watching anymore,” he resigns, quickly muting the TV and getting up, making his way over to Jiyong’s laptop.

“I thought you were too tired,” he says, patting the empty seat next to him. “Sit back down grandpa, you’re gonna hurt your back. I’ll just change the movie.”

“I’m old but I’m still the dancing king, don’t disrespect me.”

Jiyong laughs. “You’re right, I apologize your majesty.”

He lets Seunghyun go through his laptop, watching him click and scroll through playlists, some solely based on genres and others based on recurrent moods. It takes a while and soon, music starts to fill in the room again.

Seunghyun seems content with what he picks and he walks over to Jiyong. He moves one arm behind him and offers his other hand, slightly bowing, mimicking the old fashioned manners of being asked for a dance in those big ballrooms with fancy masks people used to have that Jiyong always saw in movies.

“May I have one last dance?”

Jiyong blinks at Seunghyun, staring at his face and then his hand. The soft music plays as a background noise and he can’t tell what song it is, the lyrics and melody indistinct. He fills the emptiness of his hand with his own and stands up, letting Seunghyun take the lead.

It doesn’t register into his head until there’s a hand on either side of his hips and his own hands are on Seunghyun’s shoulders. A laugh is suppressed into a giddy smile.

“What are we, eighty-two?” he prods lightheartedly.

“So now only old people slow dance?”

“Yup.”

“I guess we’re eighty-two then,” he jokes.

Seunghyun’s continuation of his playful words keeps a weight lifted off his heart and he wishes he’d somehow continue it. The silly back and forth remarks make Seunghyun smile, letting out his childish nature, and even if it’s just for a few seconds―it feels like both of them forget about everything

The music that’s been playing, that hasn’t actually ever stopped, fills his ears now. It’s slow and calming, but has the opposite effect on Jiyong. He’d much rather go back to the deafening songs blasting through the speakers, those having their unique comfort that Jiyong needs.

His hands slide from his chest to wrap around his neck and he snuggles into the crook of his neck. He makes conversation out of what he can again.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay for two years?” he asks, his tone serious but it comes out more as a tease. “Your old body can’t even handle dancing for a couple minutes.”

“You’re going to regret saying that when I come back with a six-pack.”

“Yeah, and then you’ll come back to see me twenty pounds heavier,” Jiyong complains. For a second he’s bitterly reminded of his own enlistment as well, his previous statement a lie. The image of him in a uniform quickly flashes through his mind but he brushes it off. That's for another time.

Seunghyun shrugs. “I’ll still love you.”

“Even with my gut out like an old man?”

“Even then,” Seunghyun answers.

Jiyong smiles, making light of their situation helps somewhat. It’s indirect, a way to ease into it painlessly for the both of them. Compared to before, the heavy feeling has subdued, the topic no longer taboo.

It’s slow progress, but it’s there. Though Seunghyun’s intentions are much different tonight.

“I’m going to miss you,” he whispers, voice low with something in it that Jiyong can’t pick up.

He closes his eyes shut, to numb whatever pain he can. His words are so sudden yet calm it hits him all at once and he waits for the abrupt stinging feeling in his chest to pass.

It doesn’t.

It’s like those nightmares where you dream of yourself falling, the drop down paralyzing, and you wake up a split second before you hit the ground. Except he’s fully awake and the feeling is boundless.

He feels his legs weaken and he lets Seunghyun take the lead because he knows they’ll give out entirely if he says anything else. He wants to say it back, to complete the missing puzzle piece and reassure him that everything will be okay. Months prior, fanmeets and concerts were effective enough to keep Seunghyun distracted and open. On days off, hours blurred.

Text after text, each went read but unanswered. By the twentieth text, Jiyong was desperate and annoyed and had no other option but to drive to his house and bang on his front door until he answered.

It was always in the middle of the night. Sometimes past midnight.

Neither of them talked. Frustration would build inside him in the spur of the moment and once he got there, words escaped his mouth, everything suddenly becoming too complicated and exhausting, never knowing the right thing to say. The most he could bring himself to do was stay up with him, watching dark red wine bottles change to clear throughout the night, and then whether it was from fatigue or alcohol, he’d pass out on the couch, in his arms.

It dragged on for months, the thoughts of enlistment faintly lingering between them but neither bringing it up. Saying it would make it feel too real, too tangible.

And all of it comes out in one big wave, because he said nothing then and if he says nothing now, he’ll hate himself more than anyone else could.

“I’m going to miss you, too,” Jiyong says, grimacing at how fragile his voice sounds. Reality is catching up to him too quickly. “You’ll be okay, Seunghyun. I promise you’ll be okay.”

“I know,” he answers, and Jiyong hears it this time.

“No,” his voice falters and he takes a deep breath, “You don’t. I never told you it was going to be okay. I never knew what to say or how to make you feel better. All I did was watch you drink until you passed out in my arms. I hated being so useless and I thought, maybe it’s not too late, maybe on our last day I can do something, even a little. I thought it worked, distracting you. How fucking stupid of me.”

Seunghyun stays quiet, his hands moving from Jiyong’s hips to wrap around his waist, pulling him in tight.

“I'm sorry,” he breathes. “I’m sorry for not saying all of this until now. You were never okay and I knew that. I didn’t know what to do back then and I still don’t. I’m sorry.”

Everything’s so overwhelming it doesn’t feel real for a few moments. The enlistment, the months in between, this whole night. None of it, as if this is some kind of dream or sick joke.

“Do you really believe all that?”

His voice brings him back and confusion settles in after the words repeat in his head. _Of course I do_ , he thinks.

Jiyong furrows his eyebrows and wipes away the tears that threatened to fall from before. He slightly pulls away from him and sees Seunghyun, tears welling up in his eyes but still more composed than he’s ever been these past months, more composed than Jiyong is right now.

Seunghyun doesn’t let him answer. He rests his forehead on Jiyong’s and closes his eyes.

The next song plays, and this time, he recognizes it.

“Remember when we first met. All our classmates made fun of me for being fat but you didn’t care. You came up to me and asked me what I was writing. And I showed you my notebook filled with embarrassing lyrics.”

 _For you I was the flame_  
_Love is a losing game_  
_Five story fire as you came_  
_Love is losing game_

“Then years pass and we somehow meet again. You convinced me to audition for YG. You kept telling me to imagine our future together on stage, touring in foreign countries and having cute girls lining up just to see us.”

 _One I wished, I never played_  
_Oh, what a mess we made_  
_And now the final frame_  
_Love is a losing game_

“We both make it. Our dream was finally coming true, just like you said it would. And we spend every second together. In the studio, in our shitty dorm, in the small restaurant across the street that had cheap enough food for us to pass the day with.”

 _Played out by the band_  
_Love is a losing hand_  
_More than I could stand_  
_Love is a losing hand_

“Then that one day, when we were all alone in the studio, we started making songs for our album, _love songs_. I asked you who the songs were about, like I always do, but you never gave me an answer until then. You told me they were about me.”

 _Self-professed profound_  
_Till the chips were down_  
_Know you're a gambling man_  
_Love is a losing hand_

“I told you the same thing back and everything changed. I fell in love with my bestfriend and these past few years have been the most happiest years of my life.”

 _Though I battled blind_  
_Love is a fate resigned_  
_Memories mar my mind_  
_Love is a fate resigned_

“But then,” his voice cracks, “One day, I woke up, and thought about nothing. _Felt_ nothing. It took everything away from me. It wasn't fair. But you stayed with me. You’re the one thing I didn’t lose.”

 _Over futile odds_  
_And laughed at by the gods_  
_And now the final frame_  
_Love is a losing game_

Seunghyun lets the silence drag on for a few second before pulling back and opening his eyes. He meets Jiyong’s teary ones, soft and gentle, but his face still uncertain, so he continues.

“Please don't think that you've never been there for me. I don't need words to know that. This whole night I barely thought of tomorrow, the only thing I've been thinking about is you,” he soothes, his own tears beginning to fall, “You’ve been by my side since the day we met. You’ve loved me every day in between. And you’re still here for me now. You never gave up on someone like me. Thank you, for tonight, for everything.”

Jiyong's tears finally fall and they come out all at once.

He remembers every sleepless night Seunghyun spent, his body fatigued and weak but his mind apprehensive, overworking him until it was satisfied. Jiyong hated every single second of it. Hated Seunghyun hurting so much that his own body couldn’t handle it, the aching becoming so physical he didn’t want Jiyong touching him anymore.

Seunghyun is right, it isn’t fair, nothing ever is.

Tomorrow’s a new day he has to face, two years worth of a different life he never asked for, but that's tomorrow. Right now, he’s still here, crying like a child and hurting, but it’s different from the months before. He knows he has someone to hold onto, he always knew.

Jiyong nods his head, his heart light for the first time in a long while.

“And I’ll stay with you until I die,” Jiyong says. “You’re stronger than anyone else I know and you’ll get through it, I promise. Everything will be okay, and I’ll be right here, waiting for you to come back.”

Jiyong’s a blubbering mess by the end, looking up at him like a cute puppy with his face covered in tears and snot and Seunghyun can’t help but smile a little. He brushes his thumb over Jiyong’s wet cheek, his eyes slightly swollen and his nose pink.

“I know,” he says, to nothing in particular but to everything at the same time, and he presses his lips on Jiyong’s forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Seunghyun pulls him into his chest and hugs him tight, Jiyong happily wrapping his arms around his neck and burying his face into him. The clock is ticking but his mind forms its own world, where time is slowed down and everything that's good is never ending.

Seunghyun that smells of cologne and alcohol, their bodies swaying lazily to the soft music, the promise for their future, and everything from tonight.

He closes his eyes, the tears stinging for a moment, and remembers all of it for the next two years.

The movie finishes, the last few minutes playing out without any sound. Seunghyun glances up by chance and smiles. The boy and the girl are dancing, just the two of them alone. It's Jiyong’s favorite part, and he finally knows why.


End file.
